


The Magic Of Life

by AllTheLokisWelcome7



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, By which I mean Afghanistan, Denial, Eventual love-making, Fluff, FrostIron - Freeform, He doesn't know it yet, Hurt & Comfort, Loki admires Maria, Loosely follows canon in chapter 3, M/M, Maria Stark is a lovely person, Maria respects Loki, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Prompt Fill, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Ritual, Serious trust Issues, Slow Burn, Tony always thought he was just lucky, Tony is Loki's High Priest, Tony was a cute kid, emotional needs, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheLokisWelcome7/pseuds/AllTheLokisWelcome7
Summary: After finding themselves unable to conceive and exhausting all other options, Maria and Howard Stark seek out the God of Mischief to assist them. He agrees, but it will cost them their undying loyalty. In the end, even though he doesn't know it, Tony's entire life has been influenced by this deal.





	1. Ritual (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Today marks the one-year anniversary of me first putting words on a page towards filling out this prompt! It had been on my mind for months prior, but I was having trouble breaking out of my writer's block. I could have imported it from here https://frostironprompt.livejournal.com/518.html?thread=46598#t46598, but I didn't know how it would work, and I thought I'd try to smooth out the edges first (since it was written in a rush).

_On this strange night twenty-two years ago, there were three. A couple dressed in all green quietly conferred amongst themselves, steeling themselves for what they were about to do. They remained unaware of the presence of the third, who had yet to reveal himself._

 

The being was hidden in plain sight before them by the ever-changing rifts between realms, and simply waited in silence with the patience born of a millennium. For weeks he had been observing them, drawn by his name in their thoughts, repeated endlessly with an urgency that only swelled as the days grew shorter and the nights darker. He passed the time by studying their gestures, appraising their motivations and resolve.

 

Here, amongst the canopy of warm colours that fell at their own leisure and the flickering light of stars against the moonless sky, there was a heavy mingling of both peace and chaos. If the deity were one for such a concept as sentiment, he might consider this blend _perfect._

 

After half an hour of preparations and finalising plans, the couple drew a large circle around them, lining it with the Autumn mulch. They sat shoulder to shoulder in the centre of it, a large velvet pouch on the ground in front of each of them. Moving as one, each pulled an object out of their respective pouch and placed it in the space they've dedicated to this.  _Offerings_ , the god suspects.

 

The humans continued with their self-devised ceremony, placing object after object in a careful arrangement, occasionally uttering a word or short phrase. Finally, all is set, and the woman cleared her throat as they both rose from a seated bow.

 

“O' Cunning One, to whom man turns when all other options are barren, we offer unto You all that lies within this space, to do with as You so choose. There is only one thing that we would ask of You in return.”

 

Lips twisting into a grin, the deity awaited the confirmations to his self-assured suspicions.

 

“O' Merciful One, whom has crossed every border of social convention countless times,” the man chimed in immediately, voice admirably masking his discomfort, for all that it radiated off of him.

“Whom has been both Mother and Father, whom has loved and lost more than we may ever know. May You hear our request, and act upon it accordingly.”

 

The man paused briefly, waiting for the ideal moment when his wife would add her voice to his.

 

“God of Mischief and Deception, God of Freedom and Familial Ties, God of Ice and Fire, we implore You to aid us in our endeavour. To You, Loki, we offer our belongings and our lives to command as You please. All we ask in return is that You bless us with child.”

 

With a soft smirk, Loki stepped through the veil between their realms, appearing in front of them within the edge of their circle. He spoke without moving his mouth, arms wide in a friendly gesture as he appeared to stare both of them in the eye simultaneously, and delighted in their shock.

 

“It has been quite some time since I've been propositioned thusly, and I can assure you, you've come to the right God. Since the pair of you are the first in some time, I shall be merciful, but I too have my conditions.”

 

Taking one small step forward, his energy seemed to flood the entire circle, roaring up the sides of invisible walls.

 

“Until the child is born, you must tell everyone who observes your pregnancy or his birth that it was _I_ who granted it. You must say this in praise, and should you meet another who struggles to conceive, you must tell them what you have done tonight and bid them to do the same.”

 

Loki took another step forward, craning his neck to watch them tilt backwards in order to maintain eye contact.

 

“Do you accept my terms?”

 

“Yes,” Maria breathlessly murmured without hesitation. “I accept.”

 

Her husband looked vaguely disgruntled, still reluctant to admit to such an act as worshipping anyone in this manner. “Yes...” he muttered.

 

Loki's head turned slowly to focus his attention solely on him, and his presence seemed to grow even larger, the air growing heavy.

 

“'Yes' _what_ , Howard Stark?”

 

His smirk widened as Howard jumped, clearly out of his element. With a deep, shaky breath, Howard almost stood to defy him, but Maria hastily pulled him back down.

 

“...Yes, I accept your terms.”

 

“Then it shall be done. Be sure that you do not forget this, lest great misfortune befall you. Do have a lovely...” Loki turned his back to them, allowing them to gaze upon him in his majesty as he examined the sky. He took the opportunity to study them further with their guards lowered somewhat, determining if their intentions remained unchanged without the obvious scrutiny. As expected, Maria's gaze on his back was hopeful; Howard's filled with disdain.

 

“Morning,” he finished with a victorious smile thrown over his shoulder. With a wave of his hands and the sounds of crackling fire and snapping ice, the circle flooded with an immense energy that would have thrown the humans to the ground had they been standing. They inhaled sharp breaths whilst shielding their faces, the illusion of heat and embers smothering them. When they regained their senses enough to examine their surroundings, they concluded that they were alone. Everything they had laid out, save for their pouches themselves, was gone.

 

“This was a terrible idea,” Howard growled, dusting himself off as he got to his feet.

 

“This idea just saved us,” Maria countered, frowning at him with disapproval. “Don't be so disrespectful.”

 

Ignoring his urges to snap a response, he picked up his pouch and offered his hand to her silently. Accepting it, they returned home, and it was on this day that the entity that would become Anthony Edward Stark was conceived.

 


	2. Memories

 

Trouble followed Tony like a lost puppy. It didn't bother him much; if he was being honest with himself, he was used to it. On some days, he was even thankful for it, and found it vaguely exciting. It brought attention, knowledge on how to get out of numerous situations, and a cleverness for which he'd found no rival.

 

Things weren't always this way, though.

 

As he waited for in the mess of New York's traffic with his chin on his palm, eyes tracing the familiar, bland streets, his gaze slid across a figure that sparked a memory within him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_I'm all alone..._ Tony thought to himself, a trembling ball that he'd curled himself into behind a mass of boxes in this abandoned train station. People he didn't know scoured the area, armed with guns and angrily shouting over the top of one another, demanding that he reveal himself.

 

_I'm just a child, I'm not anyone special... Why are they after me...?_

 

He knew, of course, that he was different; that in the eyes of many, he was special. Fear flooded his mind, rendering him unable to accept this as fact.

 

_Please... if there's a God, or anyone else out there, someone who cares, please help me!_

 

An ear-splitting noise rang out as a warning shot hit a girder. Tony forced himself not to make a sound as the frightened sob threatened to burst from his throat, the spaces between his closed eyelids filling with tears.

 

_Please! I don't want to die today!_

 

Muffled shots echoed briefly around the station, followed by an overbearing silence that invaded his thoughts. Opening his eyes against the fear, he glanced around as much as he could, still not daring to move.

 

“Anthony,” a lone, soft voice murmured from the quiet space. Tony hiccuped and cautiously stood as he cursed himself silently, barely tall enough to peer over the crates.

 

Turning his head towards one side and slowly sweeping his gaze across the room, he found his would-be assailants crumpled on the floor, the telltale feathers of tranquilliser darts protruding from wherever skin was available between the thick layers of dark clothing. Unsure of why he felt relieved by this knowledge, the boy turned his attention towards the black-clad figure standing in the room. Although sharing the colour, this person was garbed as a member of a SWAT team.

 

They were of average height, and moved slowly towards the opening between the boxes and the wall. Seeing the child duck down and cower again, the figure knelt and removed their shiny helmet, revealing close-cropped black hair and startling green eyes.

 

“I'm here to help, Anthony.” The man extended a hand, voice just as soft as before. Looking him up and down critically, Tony held it uncertainly, unable to shrug off the feeling of familiarity; he knew in his soul that they had never met, just as he believed that he would have remembered meeting this man.

 

 _Even if I forget all other faces I ever see,_ _this face will always stay with me._ Blushing slightly with the intensity of the last minutes, and filled with relief and admiration too great to contain, Tony lowered his head and held his arm across his eyes.

 

“Thank you, Mister... But how did you find me?”

 

“Oh, you know. I was in the area, and the shouts weren't very hard to follow. Come,” he stood slowly, helping him to his feet. “I'm sure that your family is anxious.”

 

Nodding, Tony hurried out, running straight into the arms of his waiting mother, where he proceeded to lose himself in her warmth. His concerned father stood rigidly at her side, lips a line of tension set into a face of stone. Howard opened his mouth to say something to the man, but stopped himself when he saw the familiar features, glaring at him instead. Loki only smirked smugly in response, turning back to the subway with silent footfalls.

 

“Mummy, this is the man who-” Tony turned from Maria's arms to introduce his rescuer, face falling in disappointment as he absorbed the knowledge that he was gone. “...saved me...”

 

“It's alright, my darling. Let's go home now, alright?” Maria soothed, stroking his hair.

 

Nodding once more, he took her hand, uncertainly extending his free one to his father. For a moment, Howard stared before he finally relented, taking his young son's other hand as they left for home.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Hey, wait a minute!” Tony sputtered, hurriedly getting out of his car. Since the traffic hadn't budged for half an hour, he was unconcerned about leaving it. Travelling like anyone else is something that would have bothered Tony if he didn't frequently use it as an escape from work, and to process his ideas. He followed the man with the too-green eyes, taller still than he remembered and dressed in a flattering grey suit.

 

“Sir! Excuse me, sir?”

 

His cries apparently falling on deaf ears, he frowned, preparing to run after him before turning the corner. The alleyway before him, sheltered by two depressing building, is empty.

 

“What the-” Tony gave the area a thorough scan, peering behind each dumpster and corner to no avail. “I'm _not_ crazy...” He growled, shaking his head before returning to his car. “Just another crazy day...”

 

From the rooftop overhead, Loki beamed to himself as he watched the spectacle below, eyes alight with joy and mischief. Despite the oddities in his appearance that remained with him no matter the form he took, the number of people who would have said anything were limited at best. That this man that belonged to him not only noticed him from such a distance, but sought him out and actively did such an unusual thing, Loki found exciting.

 

Perhaps one day they might truly meet, but until then, he couldn't just reveal himself. _As much as he enjoyed toeing the lines between what was expected and what was allowed, the stage was not yet set._

 

 


	3. Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse Tony being a little shit in this chapter. I'm very mean to him, and this is his first big loss. Grief manifests differently for everyone.

It was only a month after this encounter that Tony lost his father. A business deal had gone sour; at least, that was the official story. In reality, it was one of Howard's own inventions that had killed him, and this knowledge brought no end of shame and guilt to the grieving family.

 

Tony blamed himself, of course. Had he insisted more forcefully to look at his father's work, or made his modifications in secret consequences be damned, maybe things would have been okay. Maybe he'd still have a father who, despite not getting along with him well and in all honesty was a terrible parent, was still a highly influential part of his life.

 

Although Maria said nothing, she suspected that this was no accident. In fact, she had come to the conclusion that this had happened because Howard had broken the promise that they had each made to Loki, spiting him enough to not only not tell anyone about the arrangement, but to try and silence her on the matter as well.

 

On one hand, she understood: his competence would have likely been undermined had word gotten out, and their competitors would surely have dragged the Stark name through the mud without hesitation. On the other, she berated him for his arrogance, and had told him countless times that he would regret making a deal with powers they didn't understand and then failing to uphold his end of the bargain. Even after all this, they had still managed to keep it a secret from their son. Perhaps it was time to tell him...

 

_No_ , she told herself sternly.  _We did not swear to secrecy with him, but it wouldn't be right to tell him. Not at such a delicate time._

 

Together, standing straight and still, they thanked each person for coming to pay their respects. She dutifully shielded Tony from the reporters and other intrusive pests, a hand on his shoulder to keep him from reacting. Just when the press was becoming too persistent to manage, a familiar build stepped in front of them.

 

Loki worked his persuasive magic on the pesky people, banishing those who could not be respectful, then turned to them with a warm grin.

 

“What a shame those vile creatures exist, at such a sorrowful time,” he mused aloud.

 

“Indeed it is, sir. Thank you, for the intervention,” she replied with a kind but restrained smile.

 

“Mum and I had that handled just fine without your help, thanks,” Tony glowered, crossing his arms. For all that he presented himself as in command of this situation, he began to feel uneasy when the poison-green eyes focused on his face, which heightened as a cocky smirk spread across Loki's features. His body language remained languid, but his eyes flared with challenge.

 

“Oh, indeed you did. Even a simpleton could see that you had it under control.”

 

“Tony, that's enough,” Maria whispered as she put her hand on Tony's shoulder again from where he had thrown it off, before turning to face the god. “I do so apologise for my son's behaviour. It's a trying time for us all, and perhaps him more than most.”

 

Loki nodded in what she hoped was understanding.

 

“Have you been well?” she continued.

 

“Very well, thank you, Maria. Let us hope that young Anthony continues to reach his full potential in spite of such things.”

 

“Why are you everywhere I go?” Tony interjected darkly, eyes narrowing. “Are you stalking me?”

 

“Tony!”

 

“Perhaps you are confusing me with someone else? I do have one of those faces.”

 

“Nuh-uh. I never forget a face. You've been showing up randomly for years, always followed by big trouble for me. I'm sick of it!”

 

Loki crushed the desire to correct him, to explain that the trouble was greater before he arrived than after he left: it was not the fault of the chaos that Howard refused to acknowledge either of them, or became enraged after such incidents. Instead, he became cryptic, sneering as he issued another challenge, testing his chosen disciple.

 

“Well, if I am who you think I am, then I am certain that you have much to thank me for, don't you?”

 

Tony paled, raising onto his toes to glare more menacingly into the deity's face.

 

“Well, if you are – and I'm sure of it – then I've already thanked you for what you've done for me,” Tony countered, his smirk gaining confidence at his strong words.

 

Loki's eyes flashed, but he held no malice there, only amusement.

 

“Ah, but perhaps I have done more than you can presently think to thank me for. Good day, Anthony. Maria.” With that, he turned and strode away, blending in with the crowd far too easily for Tony's liking.

 

“Tony, that was very rude,” Maria chastised when the god had left, voice barely above a whisper.

 

“But he's too weird of a guy, Mum. I'm not wrong here, and I'm not scared of him. Maybe he _has_ saved me a few times, but that doesn't mean he can come here and think he owns my life!”

 

“I do so hope this attitude doesn't put you in a bind someday...”

 

Tony said nothing as he attempted to locate the man in the crowd, to no avail.

 

_We'll meet again, and when we do, you're going to tell me everything_ , he vowed.

 


	4. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up: Tony is kinda entitled in this chapter.

Already, ten years had passed since the funeral. Tony was bitterly disappointed that he had only seen the man a handful of times since, the dark recesses of his mind often asserting that his harsh words that day had kept him from returning. He always seemed to vanish before a conversation could be started, and the one time that he'd managed to talk to him, an incident had arisen that required his attention.

 

With each encounter, he seemed to have a different body or face, which Tony had yet to solve with certainty, but his eyes were always the same, often the hair along with them. Tony had also observed that he didn't seem to age.

 

_Curious_ .

 

~ ~ ~

 

The next time they met was in a cave in Afghanistan. Yinsen had done the best he could with what he'd managed to source, but there were still times when the pain was so intense that Tony couldn't determine whether or not he had passed out. Once, when it all felt like too much and Yinsen was unable to be woken from a deep slumber, Tony cursed as he struggled with his mind and emotions, fought for all he was worth to keep the pain at bay.

 

“God, please...” he groaned under his breath, curled as tightly around himself as he could without dislodging the car battery, in an attempt to minimise the pain.

 

“Please. Help me live through this. I don't want to die, and Yinsen... He deserves to get out of here, to go back to his family. Please, God. I don't ask you for much...”

 

The heavy metal door clicked open and Tony froze, eyes wide to witness all he could in the darkness, watching with terror as a relatively short figure walked up to him.

 

“Here,” the gentle voice suggested, outstretched hands clutching painkillers and a mercifully clean metal mug filled with equally clean water. Tony thought he was dreaming.

 

“You speak English?” He gazed up at the man who looked to be around his age, but even in the darkness, the flash of his eyes revealed the unnatural shade of green he was searching for his entire life.

 

“I speak many things,” came the quiet reply. “Take these, quickly now.”

 

“How did you manage to get clean water? Everything here is covered with dust and grime for miles around.”

 

“Did you want help or not?”

 

“...Yes.” Tony downed the tablets and drank greedily, grabbing the man's wrist as he took the mug back and made to leave. “Stay for once, won't you?”

 

“I cannot-”

 

“Please.” Tony insisted. “I don't even know your name, and you've been such a big part of my life. I... I want to know you. Come here.” He shifted until there was room to share, pulling the being into the space as he did so.

 

“I'm not supposed to be here-”

 

“I could be dead tomorrow.”

 

Silence blanketed the room, the air between them tense and still. Tony's desperation was palpable, his fear-flooded mind convincing him that the end was near.

 

“And if that happens, I want some answers tonight.”

 

“You'll not die tomorrow, Anthony, this I assure you. In fact, you will be far from here, on your way home.”

 

“I don't believe you. You can't know any of that for sure.” Tony's grip became tighter, and he urged him closer still; the determination in his eyes and the adrenaline-fuelled strength, born of a mixture of fears, kept Loki in place.

 

“Stay the night. Please. Don't make me beg...”

 

With a heavy sigh, Loki relented, being mindful of the wires as he lay on his side, facing him. “Very well, if this will make it easier.” The implied  _on me_ was unmistakable, but Tony disregarded it nevertheless.

 

“Thank you... You have no idea how much this means to me.”

 

Loki stayed silent, his patience returning to him as Tony slowly settled.

 

“First question: your name. Please tell me your name. I... I don't want you to stay as _'that guy'_ forever.”

 

“What is a name to those barely there? Is not the concept more wonderful?”

 

“Concepts are fine, but how do you find others who understand the concept without a name for it?”

 

Smirking pleasantly, Loki half-lidded his eyes. “Who would you explain me to, Anthony?”

 

“Tony. Call me Tony.”

 

“If that's what you want. Tony.”

 

His name falling in that tone from those lips caused a shiver to run down his back, but he couldn't think about that now. He wouldn't fall for the obvious distraction. Not when he finally had a chance to get answers to the questions that have been plaguing him for over two decades.

 

“I wouldn't explain you to anyone,” he offered, absently placing his hand on Loki's arm, seeking comfort in this godforsaken hellhole. “Even if it's not one you respond to, can't I have a name? Something tangible to add to when I think about you?”

 

“Do you think of me often, Tony?” Loki drawled, voice laced with a sneer. “I'm flattered.”

 

Tony let his own smirk shape his mouth, taking the time to drink in his features with his eyes. “Maybe I do, maybe I don't.”

 

“Loki.”  
  


“Pardon?”

 

“You may call me Loki.”

 

The mortal nodded, accepting this as an alias, the substitute for the stranger's real name that he'd made allowance for. Plenty of people named themselves after gods if given a chance, after all. Something about giving them strength or wisdom, he supposed.

 

“Alright, Loki. Why do you look different every time I see you?”

 

“Everyone looks different at different times. The only true constant is change.”

 

“It's one thing to change your hair or your fashion style, but entirely another to change your entire body. Why do you bother? What are you hoping to get out of it? I bet you're riddled with scars from endless plastic surgeries.”

 

To his surprise, Loki laughed; a smooth, genuine laughter, unguarded and without challenge. “An abundance of scars I may have, but I assure you that they are not from so foolish a thing.”

 

“Will you show me yours, then? You've already seen mine.” Tony gestured vaguely to his chest and hands.

 

“Perhaps another time.”

 

“Aw, shame. I bet yours don't retract from your beauty.”

 

Loki couldn't help but smile; truly, what a strange man his mortal vassal was. “You know just what to say to a man, don't you?”

 

“Women too, I hope! Anyone who's interested, no matter how they present.” Tony grinned, then his face fell almost immediately afterwards. “It's going to be so much harder now, if I live at all. First thing's first, I'll relieve myself of this wretched thing with something so much more efficient, but... I'll never be able to sleep with my shirt off again. And no one can know. I-” He swallowed, a fingertip on his lips.

 

“You are a clever and resilient man, deeply admirable, and with a heart far more compassionate and powerful than you may notice yourself. Come what may, you can confide in me.”

 

“Loki... Do you remember my old man's funeral a decade ago, when you got rid of the reporters?”

 

“Perhaps.” The deity remembered, of course, but he wasn't about to admit it just yet, wanting to wait and see what happens.

 

“I asked, in meaner words, why you were always around when I needed you most. Why is that?”

 

“A coincidence, I'm sure.”

 

“No, Loki. That's not true. I can understand you stalking me around New York, sure. But here? There's just no chance. You weren't part of either convoy, and even if you were, you weren't captured with me. There's just no reason for you to be here.”

 

“Maybe you dreamed me up to help you?”

 

“No way. I've never dreamed with this much clarity.” Tony's grip tightened on his arm once more. “And you're here. Not just to talk to, but physically.”

 

“I suppose that is true.”

 

“What is it that you want? Why do you come near me, where you could fulfil whatever you have planned, then simply leave, often without a word? I didn't pick you as a coward.”

 

“A coward I am not; you are correct in that observation. However, what I want with you neither begins nor ends with being in your presence.”

 

“So what is it, then? Are you a fan? I gotta say, you're one of the most devoted fanboys I've ever come across.”

 

Tony almost jumped back when Loki burst out laughing again, harder and louder than before.

 

“What's so funny?”

 

“To say that I am the one devoted to you, when you have been looking for me since the day we first met.”

 

“...Shut up,” Tony laughed as well, although he quickly stopped before the pain would turn into a coughing fit. Fingers found the other's and fit between them, seeking warmth and comfort. “You're more fascinating to me than any other person on Earth.”

 

“How sweet of you to say.” Loki's eyes slid to their entwined hands, then back to Tony's face. “You're quite presumptuous, aren't you? Assuming that it is acceptable to do to my limbs as you see fit.”

 

“I'm only thirty-one, you've gone out of your way to reach me  _ here _ of all places, and there have been so many times over the past – I'm assuming week – that I've nearly died. I think the least I've earned is a little contact with a gorgeous guy that seems so into me.”

 

Tutting softly, Loki smiled, affection slowly seeping into his heart as Tony's face lit up. “For an acclaimed genius, you certainly have a knack for thinking in a linear fashion.” Nonetheless, he allowed the subtle contact.

 

“You're the one who called me clever.”

 

“I did, didn't I. Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

 

“Not really, but I think I have enough closure to think clearly for awhile, and that you're sick of answering my questions.”

 

“Perhaps you are not so foolish as you appear.”

 

Tony wanted to object to that, kiss Loki or perhaps even bed him, but all that came from his mouth was a muffled yawn. “If you won't stay the whole night, at least stay until I fall asleep. I doubt that it will be long now.”

 

“Very well.”

 

“Just one last question: are you God?”

 

“No. Not what you think of when you say that.” The response hurt Tony's head, not knowing how to process it. He'd never truly believed in a god before, but having the man here was nothing short of a miracle. Instead of dwelling on it, he moved on.

 

“Thank you. For all of this. For saving my life back when I was eight, for coming to me now, however you managed it. It means a lot to me.”

 

“You're welcome, Tony. You get your rest, now. Tomorrow will be a big day for you.”

 

Nodding, too tired to contemplate his words, Tony closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered before sleep was the sensation of the slightly cooler body against his, and a hand through his sweaty hair.

 


	5. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning here! These next two chapters contain panic, denial, serious trust issues, panic attacks, and the archive warning! This chapter contains the first three, and the next adds the warning and panic attacks. If either of these is something that you're not okay with, please skip to Chapter 7. Thank you for reading.

_I've got no clue_ , Tony mused to himself as the semi-private military jet rushed back towards his home, _just how that Loki guy knew that I'd be on my way back today._

 

He stared out of the window at the empty sky with Rhodey at his side. Rhodey was clearly uncomfortable at his best friend's lack of presence, and it was obvious that he suspected that Tony had developed more than a few medical conditions.

 

Tony didn't care. Let him think, let _them_ talk. At the end of the day, he was alive against all odds. _That's_ what mattered, he assured himself.

 

 _What happened with Yinsen was unavoidable_ , he pleaded to his heavy heart. He wouldn't cry, not with so many people here; he didn't trust them to keep it under wraps. Another part of him decided that he couldn't cry even if he wanted to. Not until he could process these memories and thoughts replayed on an endless loop in his mind. Not until he could find a valid reason for it to happen that didn't involve it being his fault.

 

He got home in peace, Rhodey reluctant to leave him, but he insisted.

 

“I could use a few quiet nights,” he'd remarked. After an expected argument for the sake of being contrary, they bid each other good night, Tony sacrificing a few hours to make a prototype arc reactor before he had a much-needed shower and crawled into his own bed, turning the news on for background noise.

 

When he was almost asleep, a loud alert sounded and the news anchor voiced their alarm, directing the crew to switch the displayed footage to the cameraman and reporter in question. Tony lifted his head from the pillows, eyes wide with panic at the noise as a cold sweat covered his body.

 

“I-I don't quite believe it myself. It's too horrible to show,” she said, as the camera panned to the body of an ageing woman lying on her back, the footage refusing to travel anything higher than her blood-soaked blouse. Tony gulped hard, his breath catching in his throat.

 

“U-uh, after an anonymous tip-off, the p-police were directed to the... to this scene. Well-respected head of the _'Homes For All'_ charity fund, Maria Stark, was found dead this afternoon. If anything was stolen at all, it cannot be identified at present, and we might be dealing with an assassination here.”

 

Tony froze, feeling shocked, angry, and scared. “No! Not her too!”

 

“The medical examiners suggest that she may have been dead for as long as forty-five hours.”

 

He paused the program, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white, and finally allowed the heavy sobs to wrack his body.

 

“Let's try this then!” He snarled, glaring at his sheets through tear-filled eyes. “Let's see if that bastard finds me here, even now!”  


Wiping his face with his sleeve, although it did nothing to cure his vision, he took a few deep breaths and prayed for someone that he could trust to find him right now. Sure enough, the elevator dinged and in came Loki, looking visibly startled. Tony didn't even care at this point how he got past security, or whether he was just an illusion he'd conjured up to keep himself company in his darkest moments. In a rush of relief and trust, he leapt from the bed and grabbed him around the torso, holding him tightly.

 

“Tony?” Loki questioned softly, stroking his hair. “Whatever is the matter?”

 

Unable to form coherent words around the lump in his throat, he blindly waved in the direction of the television, where it had been paused on the headline _'Maria Stark: assassination or murder?'_

 

Dragging him to the bed so that he could see it at all, and subsequently cradling a sobbing Tony perched on his lap, the god read it over and over again, spending a few minutes trying process it. Once it set in, it was all he could do to set Tony aside gently, lest he hurl him across the room in his anger.

 

 _How could this have happened? How could I have_ let _this happen?! She was a brilliant devotee and a wonderful woman. Unlike with Howard, this isn't how it was supposed to go!_

 

“Excuse me.” Loki muttered, standing abruptly.

 

“ _Where are you going?!”_ Tony shouted, stunned and terrified. “I _need_ you!”

 

“I'll be back in just a moment,” Loki vowed. Sensing that Tony was going to rush after him, he quickly cast a spell that stopped him in his tracks. To Tony, it felt like little more than his fear getting in the way.

 

“Don't leave...”

 

“I promise you, I will be back momentarily.”

 

Turning to the elevator, he strode back the way he had come. When he turned back to his mortal, Tony caught a glimpse of an anger that he had only felt and never seen as the doors closed between them. If he was going to be honest, it terrified him, even more than whatever held him in place.

 

He watched the elevator descend three floors, heart plummeting with each one, then stop. Waiting with baited breath, he prayed silently that Loki couldn't get into the weapons lab that was outfitted on that floor.

 

~ ~ ~

 

 _Three floors down should be sufficient for my plans_ , Loki reasoned. Closing his eyes, he carefully weaved spell after spell around himself, eventually creating an identical copy. It mirrored all that his physical form held, from his attributes to his scent, and when he stepped out of it, he gave it a corporeal form that matched even the temperature of his skin and the lull of his voice. Finally, he loaned it the compassionate parts of his personality. Pressing the button to return to Tony's floor, he stepped through a portal and appeared beside Maria's body, pity and vengeance written plainly across his features, for all that no one could see him.

 

“You have my deepest apologies that this happened to you, my dear. My daughter will take good care of you, but... Was I wrong in my decision to stay with your son that night? Had I known, had I chosen to leave his side, _I would have saved you_.”

 

With a regretful sigh, he took her hand and closed his eyes, green-gold flames erupting between them. Scenes flitted across his vision. First it was her body being moved, then the reporter and the officers around her. They continued in a backwards progression until he found what he was looking for: the face of her attacker. Sneering, face contorted with bloodlust and the desire for revenge, he stood and let his magic flow, seeking the aura signature of her killer.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Back on the top floor of Stark Tower, just minutes after Loki had apparently left, he returned.

 

“For security reasons, I demand that you take your clothes off.”

 

“What security reasons would they be?”

 

“Don't toy with me, Loki. You _must_ have known what's on that floor. It's a pretty specific place to stop before coming back.”

 

“What could I have achieved in a few minutes, do you think?”

 

“...Fine, but if you won't strip, I'm still going to have to pat you down.”

 

Loki merely raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you hiding?”

 

“Nothing you shouldn't already know about. Now come here.”

 

Tony stood again, turning off all of the artificial light sources in the room, and waited at the foot of the bed. More curious than anything, Loki approached, chuckling as Tony's hands moved deliberately over his body.

 

“Alright, it looks like you have nothing after all.”

 

Patting the bed, Tony shifted up and back towards his pillows. The duplicate kicked off his shoes and followed him on hands and knees, lying at his back. The younger man closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace.

 

“I'm going to have to ask you to stay the night again. Much as I hate admitting it, you're about all I've got left at this point that I can somewhat trust, and...”

 

 _I can't do this alone_ , his mind supplied.

 

“I want someone I can hold onto that won't think all sorts of strange things about the presence of the arc reactor.”

 

Loki nodded, the slightest rustling against the pillow. “I will stay. Sleep, Tony. You have earned it.”

 

Grunting softly with agreement, he let the old familiarity of his bed carry him into sleep.

 


	6. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a panic attack, and what some may view as graphic depictions of violence. Please continue at your discretion, but rest assured the pain is over in Chapter 7.

Tony woke with a start the following morning, covered with sweat from his nightmares and clutching at the pain in his chest. He panted for some time, staring blindly at his room and trying to calm his breathing. With his awareness slowly expanding, he startled when he found a reasonably warm body pressed against his side, then half-turned to stare at Loki's sleeping form.

 

It took Tony a long time to realise that he was staring, entranced by how peaceful Loki looked, although he admitted that he'd not seen enough of him to get to know his expressions well. Still, it didn't take a genius to notice the absence of hard lines between his brows.

 

 _He stayed_ , Tony realised, feeling an aching in his chest unrelated to the intrusion. Loki had stayed when he'd needed him most, despite being confused and – Tony would wager – annoyed at him to some degree. Then again, why would he have shown up, if he hadn't wanted to see him? Why show up at all, for that matter?

 

Caught between feeling quite desperate for answers and reluctant to wake Loki, Tony curled against him, trying to return to sleep. It didn't work, but he hadn't expected it to, either. What it _did_ do was help him to relax. Listening to the even breaths of the man, feeling the rise and fall of his chest; these were nice things to focus on, free of judgement and self-loathing.

 

When he opened his eyes again, after what he assumed to be half an hour, a burst of green filled his vision. He rubbed his eyes. _A trick of the light, or my tired mind_.

 

Blinking them open, his gaze fell onto Loki's. _The light must have been reflected in his eyes_ , he concluded as his features pulled into a habitual easy smile.

 

“Good morning, beautiful.”

 

Loki smiled back, slightly tense. _What was that about?_ Nevertheless, the pleasantries rolled easily off his tongue, his words barely slurring from his sleepy voice.

 

“What's the matter?” Tony enquired, compelled to let his fingers trail along Loki's shoulder to his hair. Finding a comfortable glance returned to him, he followed through with the movement, winding his fingers into the silky black tresses. “Never had someone talk about your looks?”

 

“Quite the contrary, they are spoken of nigh constantly. It can become incessant, in fact.”

 

“Well, better they speak of your looks than your failings.” His hand followed the lines of Loki's arm now, quietly craving touch. “It really sucks when all that people can think to say about you is how you don't match up to someone that came before you.”

 

Loki's eyes flashed, but Tony put it down to the morning light streaming in, as he had before. Loki's next words were laced with casual indifference, after all: what reason did he have to worry?

 

“Indeed. However, the simple-minded only observe simple things.”

 

“I guess so. Um, thanks for staying. You… could have left at any time.”

  
  
Loki shrugged, visibly fixated on Tony’s hand on his arm.

 

“You asked me to stay, and I did. Have done twice now, in fact.”

  
  
“Yeah,” Tony responded with a wide grin, fingers now finding Loki’s hand, heart soaring when it’s returned with a squeeze. Relief filled him from the acknowledgement that his behaviour is wanted.

  
  
“It means a lot to me. That, and this.” He gestured to their hands with his free one.

 

“I’ve always been hands-on and, well. You don’t have to put up with it if you don’t like it. That aside, that’s still too many things that don’t add up, so I’m going to need to ask you some more questions. You _will_ answer them properly, won’t you?”

  
  
Again, the other man shrugged, rubbing his fingertips reassuringly against Tony’s knuckles. “For what I can, I suppose.”

  
  
“Alright, first question. How are you even here? You were _definitely_ there that night in Afghanistan, even though you were gone when I woke up. You might’ve caught a flight back here earlier than I did, somehow, but how did you get there and out unnoticed?”

  
“That’s two questions,” Loki smiled softly, watching with amusement as Tony’s roaming hand shifted to catch his waist. Did the mortal think he held some claim to him now, or was he simply so rattled he wasn’t fully aware of it?

  
  
“Extension of the same question, actually,” Tony almost teased, a smirk of his own playing at his lips almost without his knowledge.

 

_How cute, that his vassal thought he could best him in a test of wits._

 

“I have ways of getting to where I want to be, when it suits me.”

  
  
“Is that all? The way you keep showing up at hard times in my life out of the blue, one would think you can read my mind.”  


Loki allowed himself a soft snort, closing his eyes before emphasising the ridiculousness of his next words with a shake of his head.  


“It’s more like a droning whisper, actually.”

  
  
Tony stared at him hard, uncertain of what to make of them.

  
  
Catching his eye with the one of his own that slid open, he smirked.  


“What’s the matter? I’m only teasing.”

  
  
“You’re… not actually joking. Are you?”

  
  
What was the expression on Tony’s face called, again? _Incredulity_ , most likely.

  
  
“Oh, come now. You live in a world where you’re one of the greatest minds of the age, capable of creating mind-blowing inventions, but the strength of your belief draws the line at telepathy?”

  
  
“Why do you hear my thoughts, then? What connected you to me?”

  
  
Loki grimaced, thinking once more on his gruelling task.

 

“Your mother. And, if it soothes your mind, I can hear far fewer thoughts than you possess. Truly, it’s only the ones involving me that I hear.”

  
  
“Mum…” Tony muttered, eyes downcast for a moment before staring back at him. “What does- _did_ … she have to do with any of this?”

  
  
“Nothing that should have led to her untimely demise…”

  
  
“What-”

  
Finally, it was the god’s turn to initiate contact, cupping Tony’s cheek. Head lifting from the pillows, he stared firmly into his gaze, both eyes filled with conviction.

  
  
“The way the world sees you and yours is repugnant. They should be lining up to serve you, and yet to them, you’re still a piece of meat, only there for what they can get out of you. It’s such a waste.”

  
  
“I’m not a piece of… I-I still have a choice…”

  
  
With a reassuring smile, Loki nodded.

 

“What is it you choose, Tony?”

  
  
“To live. I have nothing left to lose, except my life. Nothing that matters, anyway. Mum, I… I need…”

  
  
“It’s already taken care of.”

  
  
“What? No, Loki, this is important. I need to know that whoever did this-”

  
  
“It is.” Loki enunciated, resting his palms on Tony’s shoulders now. “Already taken care of.”

  
  
“I don’t understand.”

  
  
“Do you trust me?”

  
  
“…Yes.”

  
  
“Say it.”

  
  
“Yes, Loki, I trust you.”

  
  
“Thank you… Now, close your eyes. Be still and quiet.”

  
  
Waiting firmly until Tony obeyed without question, he slid one hand back up his neck and face until he could rest a finger on his forehead; a gesture that made him shiver. When this passed, Loki closed his own eyes so that he wouldn’t have to see the piercing, enquiring features just yet, and focused on the memory.

  
~ ~ ~

 

“ _Murder_ because a woman was strong enough to reject your vile attempts at petty theft? How despicable.” His voice sounded almost expressionless to Tony, except for the faint hint of disdain.  


“Please, no!” The man murmured, dropping the knife that he’d been attempting to use to clean away his guilt along with the long-gone blood on its polished surface. It clattered against the concrete floor of his… Loki would be loathe to say accommodation, when ruins was more apt.  


Barely feeling Tony flinch in his hold at the echoing noise, he urged his mind to continue playing the memory.  


“I-I didn’t mean it!”  


“You _‘didn’t mean it’?_ You can’t just accidentally murder someone, you know.”  


“Please! I-I only meant to use it to threaten her!”  


“You’re revolting.” Tony flinched again at the sound of Loki’s kick landing, all cracking ribs and body hitting the concrete with a sickening thud and agonised noises. He could almost feel the sensation in his own leg; however, the god took special care to not let him be influenced by the remembered impressions in his own body.  


“Please! _Please!_ ” he sobbed.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
“That’s enough…” Tony whispered, horrified. He felt ill, both from the events he’d just witnessed and the sudden switch of surroundings back to his room. Quickly, he flattened himself to the mattress and pillows, breathing heavily.  


“Tony…?”  


“You didn’t kill him, did you?” For now, he was ignoring the fact that this Loki had strange powers. He needed closure on this before understanding on that.  


“Whilst I would have been well within my right to, I did not. I did not even hurt him, that badly. He will not die from his injuries, and he is comfortably in a prison cell after confessing to his crimes.”  


“How did you know it was him? How did you find him?”  


“It was a simple matter in the end. Tracing spells are for novices, after all.”  


“…Spells.” Tony questioned flatly.  


“You would doubt magic even now, after all you have witnessed?”  


“What? No! I mean-”  


Loki cupped his cheek sweetly, and with little else making sense to him right now, Tony leaned into the comforting touch, closing his eyes.  


“I understand that there has been a lot plaguing your mind lately. So many trying ordeals, in so little time… No reprieve at all.”  


“Mhmm…”  


“It is only natural that you would be doubtful of something you’ve spent your life disbelieving, even amidst all the confusion.”  


Loki’s hand shifted to Tony’s shoulder then over his arc reactor, slipping some of his healing magic into the fresh wound to ease the pain and hopefully calm him down; it can’t be good for him for his chest to be moving so hastily. The mortal responded with a gasp, hands coming up to grip his wrist as his lungs began working even faster.  


“I’m not going to take it from you, Anthony.” He addressed him by his birth name in an attempt to bring weight to his words, removing his hand. Tony seemed to breathe a little easier. “You are my charge now, and I would not risk hurting you.”  


“Your ‘charge’? Don’t get me wrong, Snowflake, I appreciate the gesture, but you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m a grown man now, and… I’ll get through this, somehow.”  


“Ah, but I do, sweet Tony. It is only through my power that you exist at all.”  


“I… huh?”  


With a heavy sigh, Loki began to draw away, but was quickly held fast.

 

 _I shouldn’t have revealed that_ , he thought sadly.  


“No vanishing acts to save you from this one. Tell me what you mean.”  


“Did you not think it strange that the name I gave you was the name of a god?”  


“Well yeah, but I thought you were saying that to protect your identity.”  


Startled, Loki barked a laugh, leaving Tony stunned at the sudden outburst.  


“What?! It’s not funny! …The god of lies is a great cover name for a spy or something.”  


This statement only caused the deity to laugh harder, shaking slightly from the force of it as the echoes reverberated throughout the large room and bounced back to them.  


“I guess what I’m trying to say is… how can I trust that what you’ve told and shown me is the truth, and not a trick?”  


“Did you not wish last night for someone you can trust to come to you?”

 

Tony was silent for a moment. “I did. I guess that means I can trust you to see me at my worst and not give a damn. But that still doesn’t prove that I can take you at your word, much as I’d like to for as attractive a guy as you are.”  


Loki quickly sobered at that, frowning slightly. Then, with a smile, he leaned forward and whispered the name of the killer into his ear, along with the added words _“look it up.”_   


Pulling his phone from his bedside table, Tony got to it immediately, scrolling through government sites and police reports with the guy’s name. The efforts held the same information: that he’d confessed to his crimes after sustaining serious injuries that seemed to match up with what he’d seen. For good measure, he typed in a command for Jarvis, the as-of-yet tiny artificial intelligence housed in his phone, whom he had been in the process of expanding to his computer and security system before this whole mess.  


Jarvis flickered the screen once in response and brought up several files from Howard’s directory, which Maria had sometimes used both during and after his life. Tony had never been allowed near it, but he liked to think himself accomplished in programming something that could give him access.  


He held his breath as he browsed the files tentatively, not quite sure what he’d been expecting. It certainly hadn’t been his mother writing down the details of what appeared to be rituals that he soon discovered to be dedicated to Loki, nor a sound file labelled with only a date: three weeks before her death.  


“Give me a minute, please…” Tony muttered, taking his earphones from his furthest bedside drawer and plugging them into the audio jack and then his ears. Inhaling deeply, he let himself sink into the bed once more, closing his eyes to focus better on the voices.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
“He is still young yet, Lord Loki.” The voice of his mother cut clearly through the audio. Her voice, while urgent, took on the tone of speaking with an old friend, rather than the reverence he expected from her words. “He doesn’t need to know.”  


“He has already reached nearly a third of his expected lifespan.” Loki’s voice returned, the urgency of the matter etched in his voice as well. “If he doesn’t find out soon, he’ll never learn the truth about who he is. Or worse, he’ll reject it outright.”  


“Perhaps you are right, but-”  


“Please, Maria. He has had his boyhood long enough. Please, promise me you’ll tell him, before he has to find out on his own. Don’t make the same mistakes my parents did…”

 

Tony wondered if he hadn’t stumbled upon a truly private conversation.  


“Loki…”  


“If not for me, then please, do it for him.”  


“…I will. You have my word. It will be done within the month.”  


“Better he hear it from you than from me… I fear he has yet to trust me nearly enough for that.”  


“He might surprise you on that front.”

 

Tony inhaled sharply, setting his teeth as he fought back tears at the smile in her clear-as-crystal voice. He sure would miss her.  


“Well, I hope that you are correct, dear. It would certainly make my job easier were he to work with me instead of against me all of the time.”  


They both laughed for a moment, and there was the clothing rustle of a hug before a silence on the end of the recording.  


_What the hell?_ Tony thought, trying to work out why there was a break in audio at all.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
“I’m back,” he announced loudly, stretching as he took the earphones out and put them back where he kept them. When he looked up, Loki was smiling at him kindly from behind his laptop.  


“Where’d you go, sweetheart?”  


Tony’s lips curled into a smirk. “Picked up my habit of giving everyone weird nicknames?” He didn’t know whether to be offended or proud.  


“Just you,” came the smug reply, and Tony decided without a doubt that it was definitely pride. “I ask again: where did you vanish off to?”  


“I was thinking.”  


“You were in distress.”  


“Can’t I be both?”  


In the time it took Loki to answer him, he’d managed to put enough facts together to formulate his all-encompassing hypothesis, that he could support or reject simply by asking it.  


“You’re actually a Norse god, and my mother worshipped you. You used your _‘magic god powers’_ to help her carry me. Am I wrong?”

 

The god looked stunned for a moment, then smirked. “Only that the issue lay in your conception, not in her ability to carry you to term.”  


Tony rolled his eyes. “Could’ve done without that fact, but… thanks, I guess. So… this ‘dedicated to you’ business. What does that mean for me?”  


“Were the situation different, I would offer the suggestion that you become my follower and remain loyal to me. However, as you are directly linked to my magic, both this proposal and your belief in me are unnecessary. That being said, it would still mean a great deal to me if you trust me.”  


“Why do you need my trust so badly, Loki?”  


“Do you trust yourself, Tony?”  


“I…”

 

 _Not completely_ , his brain supplied helpfully.  


“Your trust in me should serve as an extension of your trust in yourself. It gives us both a sense of control, and… comfort, in our chaotic lives. Can you learn to trust yourself?”  


“…Maybe…”  


“Or, would you prefer to place that control in my hands, rather than your own?”  


“I don’t know, Loki. Can we stop talking about trust and feelings and whatnot now?”  


For a moment, the god was quiet, contemplative.

 

“Very well, Tony. For now.”  


Sighing softly at the respite, he flashed him a toothy smile. “Remember back in the cave? When you said you’d let me see your scars some other time? Will you deliver now?”  


Taking a moment to consider his response, Loki smiled. “If it will help you trust me.”  


“…Yeah, probably.”  


“Then, alright.”  


Slowly, the deity rolled up his sleeves, revealing the light scarring of defensive wounds littering his forearms. Tony traced them with eyes and fingertips both.  


“So, you don’t fight much? I thought your culture was supposed to be up in arms a lot?”  


“I fight. Usually I don’t get hurt. Long ranged, or magic. Whichever takes my fancy at the time.”  


“So these are from your younger days, then? When you didn’t have a complete grasp on it all yet?”  


Loki nodded his assent, lips pulled into a tight-lipped frown.  


“Nothing to be ashamed of. We all do stupid things as kids, even us bright sparks.” Tony held out his hand at an angle, revealing a scar in his thumb from a deep injury.

 

“This, I got when I was ten, learning Dad’s tools. I was building a little robot when he found me in his workshop and shouted at me. I dropped whatever I’d been using at the time, which landed on the robot and somehow managed to activate it. Anyway, long story short, it ran amuck and smashed a window with enough force that I got a nice big shard of glass in my hand. Needed stitches and everything.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.  


“I see. Well, it is good that you did not come to more severe harm. May I?” he asked, holding Tony’s hand from the back and turning his palm upwards.  


“Uhhh… sure, go ahead.”  


Trailing his fingertip along the grooves and calluses of his palm, the god made his way to the mentioned scar and closed his eyes. He cleared his mind and watched the visions playing behind his eyelids. Tendrils of his magic snaked through pathways in time until he reached this event, ready to see it with his own eyes.

 

As he observed the scene, he confirmed his suspicions. A golden glow shone before the moment of impact, a light that drew the child’s arm in front of his face at just the right time to avoid losing an eye, the angle allowing no disruptions to the nerves or function of the digit.  


Loki let out a shaky laugh, warmth flood his heart. He didn’t care that his mortal was staring at him strangely, nor did it bother him that he took his hand away. Practically glowing with pride, he raised his hand palm-up between them, a small green flame dancing across its surface. Tony jumped, but Loki merely relaxed, gazing at the flame that held barely a trace of the gold it once contained.

 

“So _that_ was why the signature of my powers changed!” he chortled. “I had been curious as to the cause of it, but did not have the time to investigate.”  


Face still twisted in conclusion, Tony merely stared at this god – _his_ god, he tried to reason with himself. “I’m not sure I understand.”  


“You have not the training to see magic at work without the caster willing it, but our connection saved your sight and perhaps your life that day. It also strengthened our bond. You see, even when you were born, I still had a gold tinge to my magic, if less than what I had before it. There came a time after this incident when I used my magic and noticed it gone.”  


He took Tony’s hand again, carefully entwining their fingers. In his free hand, with the palm upturned, danced a green flame. As he brought it closer, Tony’s hand lit up with a golden light that ran in rivulets from his wrist and leapt across the gap to the flame, which spun them around itself, becoming enmeshed with the golden hue. Instead of feeling weaker as he might expect, he was filled with a calm strength. _They both were._   


“I’ve… that’s been there, in me, since I was ten?”  


“I would imagine so.”  


“What… I mean, how? I never even noticed, and…”  


“As I said, it happened through our bond, not by my direction. You would have noticed nothing out of the ordinary, except perhaps a great deal of luck.”  


“Definitely luck. Has, uh… Has this been protecting my life a lot?”  


“That depends. How many near-death experiences have you had?”  


“…A lot.”  


“Well, I am relieved that my magic has been able to assist you at times where I have not.”  


“Yeah… Um, Loki?”  


“Yes?”  


“Is it breaking some kind of rule that I’m attracted to you?”  


Loki bit back a laugh when he saw the vulnerability and sincerity in his mortal’s face. Instead, he responded calmly.

 

“Well, you are fortunate that I am one of the few who is entirely accepting of it. Some might be flattered but turn you down, and others are likely to become hostile. I, however, would certainly be willing to see what you come up with.”

  
He offered him a kind smile and a pat on the hand before continuing. “When you’re better, of course.”  


“Can you heal me?”

 

The god’s smile faltered. “I can ease the pain. However, even with my abilities, I can do nothing for the shrapnel, and consequently the magnet. I _am_ sorry, my dear Anthony…”  


Tony’s breath hitched at the sudden hopelessness. _Calm down_ , he told himself. _Breathe. You’d already convinced yourself that this was going to be your life now back in the cave. So what if his amazing powers don’t extend that far-_   


“Tony.” Loki called, deeply concerned. Gently holding his shoulder, he repositioned himself slightly so he could catch his eyes. “Tony, breathe with me. In.”  


Somehow, he managed a shaky inhale, exhaling along with his god. Already he felt a bit better.  


“Listen to me. I won’t leave you. Do you understand? I will stay for as long as you want me to, and my magic will ensure that you live out your natural lifespan. Are you listening?”  


Nodding, Tony released another shaking exhale and reached for Loki’s hand. The god accepted it without hesitation, giving a light squeeze before encouraging him to take five more breaths, and to be gentler with himself.  


“I will stay.”  


“Lo-Loki… Thank you…”  


Unsure of why he was being thanked, the Asgardian smiled and responded anyway, free hand running through his hair.

 

“You’re welcome, my dear Tony. Now, do you want breakfast?”  


With the affirmation, Loki made food appear out of thin air. Tony ate gratefully, astounded by both the method and the taste, and prayed that he recovered soon: he was beginning to get excited for what other miracles he could witness.

 


	7. Love (Epilogue)

With Loki's healing magic and a number of skilled surgeons, Tony made a speedy recovery.

 

They started dating during his third week of recovery, the psychologist he visited insisting that he make some positive changes in his life. Loki had put a stop to the alcoholism before it had a chance to latch on to Tony in his compromised state, and although he resented him at first, he gradually learned to be grateful for that decision.

 

By six weeks, they spoke freely, intellectual curiosity mingled with the desire to learn more about one another.

 

~ ~ ~

 

In the tenth week, Loki had been learning to cook Midgardian cuisine, Tony sitting on the counter and calling directions from his phone. When he drew near, combining ingredients to make a dressing, Tony was delighted to find that the counter gave him the height boost he needed to cup Loki's cheeks and gently pull him into a kiss. Loki gazed at him in surprise when he let him go, his boyfriend beaming from ear to ear with the mischievous contentment of someone half his age. He couldn't help but share the grin, resting his hands on either side of his knees to return the kiss sweetly.

 

“I've been wanting to kiss you for so long. You don't even know.”

 

Loki chortled, closing his eyes in bliss as Tony rubbed their cheeks together affectionately. “I'm sure.”

 

After a brief exploration of each other's mouths, they returned to their previous activities with lighter hearts.

 

~ ~ ~

 

During the third month, they began making a habit of kissing until Tony was breathless. He yearned to continue, but Loki denied him, still concerned about his health.

 

~ ~ ~

 

In just six months, Tony was well enough to return to some of his more intensive workouts. Loki agreed that they could make love, on the condition that it stayed light.

 

“God, _finally!_ ” The mortal laughed, pulling Loki onto the bed on top of him. “Here I thought I'd be old and grey before I finally got the chance to be with you.”

 

“I would never allow that to happen, Tony,” Loki purred, nuzzling against the shell of his ear. He rearranged their knees to not hurt him with his weight. “You're far too handsome to let your desires go to waste.”

 

“Aren't you just the sweetest?”

 

Calloused hands ran firmly down Loki's sides, moustache and lips tickling his neck.

 

“I want you inside of me, Lokes. I want you to take me gently and so thoroughly that I won't know it when morning comes.”

 

“That can be arranged, my dear Anthony.”

 

Loki unhurriedly pulled his shirt over his head, recently opting for Midgardian attire to give Tony yet another reason to be fixated on him. Tony both watched and helped him undress, wistfully touching his sides and torso as new skin was revealed. They'd seen each other naked before, took showers together often, but this was the first time that they were allowed to go this far without worrying about Tony's heart, and he refused to waste this opportunity by not lavishing attention onto him.

 

“You're so beautiful...” Tony murmured, thumb caressing a nipple. Loki smiled sweetly, leaning down to claim his lips.

 

“And you, handsome man, are mine.”

 

The ruffling of his hair was comforting, enough to be tempted to nuzzle that hand, but Tony instead chose to lick his wrist. He was met with another contented purr. Loki's hand moved to run sensually along his jaw, before following his neck and shoulder. Finally, it made its way over his chest and stomach, being mindful of the arc reactor, to rest against his waist.

 

Loki helped Tony to get out of his jeans before slipping off his own pants. Immediately, Tony's gaze fell to his hips, sweetly stroking his smooth outer thighs.

 

“It's really great to feel so wanted. I've been having trouble feeling it lately, thanks to this.” He nodded to the arc reactor. “Makes me feel undesirable.”

 

“Well, be that as it may, rest assured that it does not dampen my desire for you.” Loki leaned in, eyes filled with respect and admiration as they locked onto Tony's gaze, before tenderly kissing the scarring around the intrusion. Overwhelmed by his emotions, Tony closed his eyes, gasping at the sensation.

 

“Are you well?”

 

“I'm amazing. _You're_ amazing!”

 

Smiling adoringly, Loki cupped his cheeks, although Tony's eyes remained closed.

 

“Will you use magic? Please?”

 

“You'd want that?”

 

“Hell _yeah_ I want that!”

 

“What would you have me do?”

 

“Anything. _Everything_. You should choose, though.”

 

“It'll be simple and convenient at first. Nothing much, but enough to satisfy you without too much excitement. Are you ready to feel it?”

 

“Absolutely!”

 

Loki held up his hand between them. At first, Tony wasn't sure what to expect, what was happening, but then he gradually realised that he felt prepared, ready to take Loki in all his glory.

 

“Hell of a spell.”

 

“Indeed,” his god smirked. “Hygienic as well.”

 

“I'll bet it's come in useful.”

 

“Less often than you think. Now enough talk. Unless you'd prefer that instead?”

 

“No way! I finally have you, and my body is ready, so let's do this!”

 

Purring at his enthusiasm, Loki coated his staff with a layer of lube for extra comfort, then paused at Tony's entrance. After some cursing and reassurances that all was well, he slid in slowly, each moaning at the emotional intensity of their union.

 

“Are you comfortable?”

 

“Perfectly!”

 

“Good.”

 

Loki kissed first his nose, then his chin, then his mouth. His hands roamed lovingly over him, the controlled pace of their hips slow and smooth.

 

Tony wasn't entirely sure that Loki wasn't using more magic to make this experience as mesmerising as it was, although his assertions were dismissed. He sought out the details of his back, spine and hips, eventually grasping his backside firmly.

 

“Curious, love?”

 

“Always.” Tony glowed up at him before licking his neck and collarbone, delighting in Loki's shivers. “And wanting.”

 

“By my side, you shall never be left wanting again.”

 

First snickering then moaning, Tony locked his legs around the small of Loki's back, arms moving to wrap snugly around his neck.

 

“I want this moment to never end.”

 

“Even if there were to be many more like it?”

 

They laughed together softly, the pleasure becoming too great to concentrate on their conversation. As one, their focus shifted to the sensations at play throughout their bodies, and on pleasing each other.

 

Pleasure built to a peak, and moments of bliss stretched into an eternity as they shared their love. Wrapped in each other's arms, they basked in the warmth and comfort of one another, Tony both surprised and pleased to realise that with Loki's magic, they didn't have to worry about cleaning up.

 

They were quiet for a time; Tony sleepy, Loki contemplative. Eventually, and immediately before dozing off, the mortal mumbled those three sweet words that the god had not heard in so long that he could barely remember them.

 

“I love you.”

 

Closing his eyes to take it in, breathing through the bliss mingled with a slew of other emotions, Loki let himself smile as he pressed his lips to Tony's forehead.

 

“And I love you, my dearest mortal.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was a satisfying experience! It's hard for me to write smut when I'm not in the zone, and I've definitely written better, but here it is!


End file.
